


something there

by watergator



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010, Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, and phil went with him, based on that one time dan was sick and had to go to hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 03:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: a story based loosely on that one time in 2010 when phil took dan to the hospital because he was sick





	something there

He checked the small alarm clock by his bed one more time, cracking open an eyelid to see the bright illuminated numbers flash up what looks like a number two. He breathes, wincing slightly, closing his eyes again as he rolls over.

His bed feels too hard and the room is hot and cold all at the same time, but as he folds into himself, doubling over as he clutches his stomach, he tells himself that it’s just a stupid fever.But his obnoxious alarm clock is telling him he has four hours until he has to get up for class in the morning, and he doesn't think he’s slept since two days ago.

His phone is on his desk, just an arms reach away, but when he attempts to sit up, he feels a fire flame up inside him, and he actually gasps because of how unbearable the pain has gotten.

Dan can’t be sick. He can’t afford to be sick; he’s got a paper due in just a couple of weeks thats so far nothing but a draft of three sentences sitting in his laptop filed under “ _ugh_ ” and not enough willpower to catch up on the two classes he's missed this week already.

He can’t get sick, there’s not time to get sick, especially when you’re a lazy law student who has as much motivation as sloth with no arms and legs.

He desperately wants his phone but when he tries again, to uncurl himself it burns, right in the pit of his stomach, like someones taken a knife to his abdomen and twisted it there.

He’s feels a bead of sweat roll from his head and drip off his nose, and Dan would probably be disgusted if it weren't for the fact that he was freezing right now, like his entire body had been dumped into a pool of ice. It didn't make an sense.

The clock is still flashing, mocking him, screaming at him, _“no need to feel sorry for yourself Dan, did you do that research paper that’s due in exactly five hours yet?”_ and as much as Dan wants to blame it on the alarm clock, he knows that its himself telling him that.

He only has himself to blame really, it’s almost as if his body is giving him a reason to skip class this morning.  
But he’s not really thinking about his Criminology class when the first wave of nausea hits, causing his entire body to still for a moment, in fear of promptly projectile vomiting all over himself.   
But it washes away as quickly as it came, and he lets his body soften, only for that searing pain in his stomach to return and he’s tense again.

He needs his phone, he finally decides, and when he manages to sit up in bed, tears are pooling in the corners of his eyes because not only is this hideously painful but also horrifically embarrassing.

He blindly grabs for it, and there a sense of relief when his fingers brush against the cool, rectangular object and he snatches it up quickly, just so he can curl back up into the tight ball he was in earlier.

He unlocks it, the screen exploding with so much brightness that it actually hurts his eyes for a second, but he presses his messages open and of course, Phil is the first to come up.

He hesitates, is he really going to be bothering Phil at two in the morning about a stomach ache? Is it really worth it?

But when the second wave of nausea hits, and this time his body lurches forward, his gut twisting inside of him, causing a small whimper of pain to escape his lips, breathing heavily to calm his beating heart, he quickly scraps the idea of a text and goes straight to call.

The phone rings for what feels like forever, and Dan’s sure Phil wont pick up because he’s such a deep sleeper and he-

“Dan?” Phil’s voice emerges from the long dial tones, he sounds tired. 

“Hey” Dan says, or at least, that’s what Dan had planned on saying. Instead, a more strangled, more pained version had come out instead, barely sounding like words at all and he clenches his eyes shut when he realises how horrible it all sounds.

“Dan, what’s wrong?” Phil perks up, it’s so quiet that Dan can hear the rustle of his bedsheets on the other line,

“It’s uh - It’s…” Dan mumbles. He’s not really sure what it is to be fair. It’s a stomach ache. A small fever. Probably nothing.

“Dan you don’t sound too good” Phil’s voice is laced with concern now, and Dan hates that, “I’m coming over” he says, and Dan can hear him walking around his apartment now.

“No, don’t” Dan tries to say, but his words seem to slur into one, and he’s not sure if Phil understood him, or even heard him because Phil’s voice is coming through again,

“Just hang on Dan, I’m on my way” and the line is gone.

Dan can’t seem to think straight, he looks down at his phone in confusion, before dropping it onto the bed, letting his body curl up even tighter, if it were possible, and he hugs himself as tears fall down his face, his body feels so tired and so heavy, and before he knows it, his eyelids are drooping and he’s slowly falling asleep.

It doesn’t take long for Phil to get to the University campus. He gives the cabbie an extra twenty to make it quick and he’s sure he’s passed through a red light, but he doesn’t really care, not that much, when all he wants is to get to Dan.

He finds Dan’s dorm with ease (he’s been here so many times he knows the place like its the back of his hand) and opens the door with a soft click.

Dan is curled up in a ball on his tiny bed, knees tucked under his chest, arms wrapped around his own waist, his floppy fringe seems to have fallen over his eyes which Phil can see are squeezed shut.

“Dan?” he says softly, making his way to the boy.He reaches out for his, hand touching his back when he suddenly freezes in his tracks.  
Dan is on fire.

Of course, it was incredibly ironic and a great pun, but Phil was more concerned about how Dan’s thin pyjama shirt was practically stuck to his skin with sweat, and Phil didn't even need to touch his skin to feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Dan?” he tries again, this time, he rolls Dan over so he’s on his back, but Dan whines deliriously in protest, lazily attempting to roll back over into his ball,

“Dan baby, wake up” Phil says a little louder again, a little more stern.

His heart feels as if its in his throat. He knew Dan was sick, he knew that Dan had gone to the doctors about some stomach bug, he’d known that he wasn't doing so well, but he hadn't known about this. This was something else.

Phil stood in silence, his brain trying to conjure an idea or plan or even anything, when Dan suddenly let out a choked sob, rolling over to arch his back in pain, only to recoil from his movements and sluggishly curl back up again. His fringe was stuck to his forehead, and big fat tears rolled from his eyes down his face.

“Dan, Dan I’m here” Phil said, quickly dropping to his knees so he was eye level with him.

He took his hand in his, squeezing it slightly, using his other hand to push his fringe back from his face,

“Dan can you hear me?” he asked.

Dan nodded and swallowed thickly,  
“Hurts”

Phil nodded, chewing at his bottom lip, he had to make a decision and had to make one now.

“I’m taking you to the hospital” he finally said, fumbling round.

Dan seemed to whine in protest, mumbling something incoherent about not needing a doctor, but Phil found the strength to reach under the backs of his knees, his other hand sliding under his back between his shoulder blades, hoisting him up until he was carrying him bridle style.

Dan was lucky he was so light, because Phil wasn't no body builder, so carrying Dan was slightly less effort than trying to get the boy to walk.  
It was when the reached the outdoors, the cool air causing Dan to shiver, burying his head into Phil’s chest, that Phil realised he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to get to the hospital.

He weighed up his options.  
Ambulance or cab?

He looked down at Dan who had his eyes shut still, shivering as the wind picked up again, but Phil could still feel the slick, hot skin against his palm through his shirt.

Ambulance, his brain finally came up with after tossing a metaphorical coin in his head after what felt like forever.

He carefully fished his phone from his front jean pocket and dialled for 999. After he’d told them about Dan’s condition and where they were, his arms began to feel weak and Dan was slowly growing heavier with each passing second.

But sure enough, he saw a flash of blue and red in the distance, and the bright vehicle made a turn at soon enough it was if front of him.

A couple of paramedics stepped out, a woman and a man and Phil walked over to them,

“Hi” he said pathetically, looking up at the woman who was leaning into Phil’s arms to take a better glance at Dan,

“You okay carrying him there?” She looked up to face Phil, brows creased in concern. She was a slightly older woman with mousy brown hair pulled back tightly into a bun on top of her head and had to be at least a foot smaller than Phil was.

“Uh..” Phil stammered, looking down at Dan as if that would answer his question before the other paramedic appeared from behind the ambulance with what looked like a stretcher.

The male paramedic, who had dark hair like Phil, glided it over to them, “Here, you got him mate?”

To which Phil nodded, and with slight help, he placed Dan gently onto the stretcher. Dan just let out a sound that slightly resembled a groan and a whine. Either way it was pretty painful to hear.

“Let’s get going then” the woman suddenly said, clapping her hands, startling Phil slightly because it was a little over two and even though he had a fair amount of adrenaline pumping through his body, parts of him were still asleep still.

He let the man swiftly push the stretcher up into the back of the ambulance hopping in after him and Phil didn't even have to think twice before he was jumping up after him, he was sitting with Dan no questions asked.

As they began to set off, the man, or Noah, as his tag read, pulled a mask over Dan’s head, who still seemed totally oblivious to the whole ordeal, and hooked him up to some machines.  
And when Phil felt his breath hitch slightly in his chest at the sight of it all, Noah turned with a smile,

“Just standard procedure is all. I’m sure he’ll be fine”

And with that Phil let his hand slip into Dan’s his fingers intertwining with his own, and even though Noah’s kind smile and good natured words were enough to rid him of some anxiety, it didn’t stop the empty feeling in his chest when Dan didn't hold his hand back.

After what felt like hours, they’d arrived at the hospital, and soon, without warning, the woman was flinging open the doors for Noah to carry Dan out

.He never caught the woman’s name and hardly had a second to thank her and Noah, before a nurse was taking over, and the pair were gone again. But Phil didn't let his mind linger, because suddenly he was walking at a hurried pace as a nurse talked some medical jargon that Phil obviously didn't understand to a doctor that had somehow appeared by his side and just as they met a pair of double doors the nurse suddenly stopped Phil in his tracks, letting the doctor and Dan disappear behind them.

The nurse, who introduced himself as Aaron brings Phil to the reception desk, and asks him to fill out some forms, and Phil complies almost like he's on auto pilot.  
He almost finds it amusing how all this information about Dan that he’s scribbling down comes easy to him.  
If Dan could see Phil writing out Dan’s blood type with zero hesitation, he’d snort with laughter and something ridiculous like,

 _“Ha, and_ I’m _supposedly the stalker?”_

He’s told by Aaron that they were going to run some tests and he’s being gently guided to a seat in the waiting room where Aaron leaves him.  
Phil sits for a while, staring at nothing, his leg bouncing up and down, bottom of his shoe tapping ever so lightly against the plastic floor, ignoring the ache in his thigh because he needs something consistent right now, and that _tap, tap, tapping_ , seems to be keeping him focused.

He watches the room around him, how alive and busy feels, how if someone had dropped him here with no idea whatsoever, he’d never had guessed it was at least half two in the morning.  
He glances over to the receptionist who he’d just spoken to just mere moments ago and watches her pick up the phone before putting it back down just to pick up back up again moments later.

He watches and counts at least ten phone calls in just five minutes. Thats 300 seconds, so he does the maths, each call, averagely speaking, would have been only thirty seconds long. He cant remember his call to the operator earlier, what he said and how long it'd been, but Phil wonders what would be happening in each of those thirty seconds.  
They’re small pockets of peoples lives. Maybe their relatives calling for loved ones, or colleagues calling in sick. Maybe it’s someone in the dead of night paranoid about their blood tests they had taken last week and need some reassurance. Maybe its the same drunken guy that calls every so ofter only for the receptionist to huff in annoyance and put the phone down, only taking less than ten seconds.

Phil’s not sure why his brain works this way, creating little lives inside of his head and giving life to each one of them to strangers he sees, but more than ever, its rather comforting.

Phil eventually lets his gaze wander aimlessly wander around the waiting room, his brain giving the people that come and go their own tiny story, until he realises he’s run dry for ideas and this game is only fun when you’re not feeling like you're about to pass out from being so tired.

So instead he plays on his phone for a bit, messing around on some stupid apps, not entirely entertaining but enough to capture his attention for long enough until he gets bored again.  
He opens his twitter so see the rest of the world awake too. It never fails to amaze him that people around the world, people from what seems every inch of the earth seem to watch him and Dan’s videos. He don't think that feeling will ever seem real.

He opened up a new tweet and decides that maybe if he tweets something he’ll have something to do for a while whilst reading through replies, so he types out a quick,

_:( @danisnotonfire really isn't feeling good now so taking him to A &E. Send him love!_

And yeah maybe he’s already here in A&E and Dan’s not sitting next to him but instead is being poked and prodded with needles and its not as light as he makes out for it to be, but he doesn't need to pour all his worries and anxieties into a 120 character tweet to people on the other side of the world and insomniacs, so he presses send, and of course theres a floor of replies asking whats happened and if Dan is okay.

He doesn’t reply to any of them, purely because he’s so tired, and it’s not really up to Phil just to start blathering on about whether Dan is going to live or die because it’ll only cause havoc.  
So instead, he slips his phone back into his hoodie pouch and lets his body sink into the back of the chair and lets his eyes fall shut for a second, letting his sore eyes have the pleasure of just resting for a while

.And a millisecond passes because theres a weird pressure on his arm and when he snaps his eyes open, Aaron has reappeared, and to be fair, Phil had almost forgotten all about him, but the way he smiles eases Phil slightly,

“So, is he okay?” Phil lifts himself up in his seat so he’s sitting up looking up at Aaron who still has his smile plastered on his face,

“So,” the nurse starts, “We’ve ran some tests and it looks like your friend Daniel seems to have suffered from slight appendicitis” Aaron states simply.

Phil bites the inside of his cheek when he hears the way he says friend because he’s sure he mentioned that he was Dan’s boyfriend at the desk but it doesn't matter because his brain is hurtling towards the word ‘appendicitis’ to try and understand.

“So, uh, what does this mean?” Phil asks, looking up,

Aaron sighs, rocking on his heels, “Well, usually anything dangerous can be avoided with a quick simple hour long surgery” he says slowly for Phil to take in, “and I can assure you we have the best team of surgeons on hand here” he beams.

 _Best team of surgeons_ , Phil could almost scoff if it weren't so rude. He thinks how many times Aaron has said that in his career, or how many nurses have stood here in this room and said that. He thinks about all the hospitals in London, in England, in Europe, all over the world that have stood where Aaron is stood and said the exact same to someone like Phil.

But Phil just signs another form and a doctor comes in to quickly brief Phil about what they called a keyhole surgery to remove Dan’s appendix and they've left again.  
Phil sits and thinks how many times those nurses had been right, how those surgeons really had been the best, and how many times those nurses like Aaron had lied without knowing, only coming back to tell them how they'd done everything they could but not really because they weren't really the best.

And Dan’s procedure is so simple, it’ll only take an hour and Phil’s sure he knew about three kids in his class when he was thirteen that had their appendix taken out and were back the day after then next.  
But Dan isn't the kids from his English class ten years ago. Dan is _Dan_ , and theres the anxiety in his mind gnawing that Dan will be the minority of fuck ups in the most simplest surgeries because the universe had a habit of making him feel that way it seemed.

So to occupy his mind, he takes his phone back from his pocket and opens up his twitter again. There’s a lot of tweets from his last tweet, some being kind words of support, others asking and speculating on was wrong, of course the few handful of people gushing how adorable how it was that Phil was at the hospital with Dan and some people demanding there to be a fic written about this and Phil almost rolls his eyes in amusement.

Twitter becomes boring with the repetitive messages and tweets and although its nice to see how much people care, he really cant be bothered to read another “GET WELL SOON DAN” tweet for the four hundredth time so he locks his phone and lets it sit in his lap, before he quickly shoves it back in his pocket when he feels himself closing his eyes again.

It takes another two minutes for his left butt cheek to fall asleep, and it feels like he's suddenly sitting on rocks. He stands up, stretches his arms over his head and cringes when he feels the bones in his back pop and crack and smiles when he thinks about how Dan does the same thing on purpose just to freak Phil out.

His butt cheek seems to come back to life after another two minutes and he wriggles contently in his seat at the sensation, and he switches from the stories in his head to his phone and back again. At some point he must have fallen asleep because theres that gently shake on his shoulder and he’s blinking up to someone who's not Aaron.

There’s a girl with a long blonde ponytail who watches with a smile as Phil frowns in confusion for a second before remembering where he is, and sitting up to rub his eyes with the heel with his hand,

“Phil Lester?” The nurse speaks, she doesn't have a Northern accent like Phil or Aaron or Noah, but a Southern one like Dan,

“Yeah, for Dan Howell?” Phil speaks, feeling a little more awake now,

“Everything went perfectly fine, he came out of theatre about ten minutes ago” the nurse informs him, as Phil nods, soaking in her every word, translating it all to,

_Dan is okay._

He thanks her, her name is Cathy, and Phil bites his lip because thats his mums name and he's a stickler for fate and coincidences (even if Dan will shrug them off with no exception at all) as Cathy takes Phil to Dan.

Its a public room, so there’s about another four patients sat in their own beds, some with their curtains drawn, but like he’s the only thing in the room Phil’s eyes find Dan, tucked up in his bed, a machine by his side and a mask similar to the one he wore in the back of the ambulance over his nose and mouth.

“A doctor shall be in shortly to inform you on Dan’s condition” she smiles sweetly and Phil thanks her in a whisper as she leaves, and Phil joins Dans side.

He’s still sleeping, and Phil is fixated on the steady rise and fall of his chest, a reminder for his overly anxious brain that theres a perfectly working heart in there and Dan’s okay.  
A doctor, who Phil cant remember the name of, comes in, explains the surgery as simply as he can and tells Phil that Dan will have to stay overnight, which isn’t something to worry about and Phil believes him, and tells Phil he’ll have to leave after a while because he cant spend the night here and Phil sadly has to agree to that.

But when the doctor leaves, he knows he has about another hour with Dan, and even though Dan is completely knocked out, leaving Phil to nothing but an empty conversation, and even though he wants nothing but to hear his voice, he's still content to sit here silently, his hand in Dan’s, running his thumb over his knuckles, knowing that he’s okay.

And just when Phil is feeling the effects of half four in the morning, Dan opens his eyes, blinking away the heavy sleepiness and drugs in his system to notice Phil in the chair in his bed, and says nothing for a moment, before a sloppy grin is stretched against his face, the same kind of smile Phil’s seen when Dan’s been drunk, but softer - a lot more gentle and quiet and it feels like Phil’s seeng him smile for the first time ever.

He expects Dan to say something, but in his hazy train of thought, the younger boy looks to the back of his hand with Phil is still holding, blinks, looks back up and lets out a breathy laugh,

“There’s a water gun in my hand”

And Phil for the first time all night feels himself laughing too, as Dan giggles softly, closing his eyes again, smile still evident on his face as sleeps pulls him back in, Phil uses his free hand to push his fringe thats fallen over his eyes and Phil feels his heart do a flip in his chest, and he reminds himself to take a picture before Dan wakes up, purely for the blackmail purposes on the internet.  
But also because he looks so small and Phil wants to cherish this four am blissed moment for the future. But totally for blackmail

.And then when Phil had left a ghost of his kiss pressed into Dan’s hair, leaving him behind to retreat back to his flat where his bed is calling him, but so is Dan back in that hospital bed, he decides that if he gets some sleep in now he can visit Dan early as possible and maybe spare him the pain of hospital food and possible be the best boyfriend in the world by bringing some food and his DS.

And with plans of Dan, McDonalds and Super Mario Bros in his head, he finally falls asleep, that anxiety in the back of his brain, that had been constant since that first phone call from Dan all those long hours ago, the same anxiety that rode in the ambulance with him and sat with him in that busy waiting room, was finally, no longer there.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this !! please leave a kudos or even better, leave a comment to let me know what you thought !!
> 
> also half way through writing this i pulled up the old tweets from that night and realised that id gotten a few aspects wrong (like the time and dan and phil sitting waiting with each other) BUT LETS PRETEND THAT THESE MISTAKES WERE TOTALLY INTENTIONAL AND TOTALLY FOR THE DRAMA
> 
>  
> 
> totally...


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